The Warmest Castle
by wibblywobblywesteros
Summary: Another Jaime and Sansa pairing from the collection of fanfics in my computer. Sappy romantic stuff again. One shot.


Jaime Lannister had never liked the north. The people, the cold, even the animals were disagreeable to him. He would have never chosen to live in this place if it had been up to him, but it wasn't up to him. The new Targaryen Queen had ordered him to marry a northerner. He was given some choice as to which house to marry into. Either Stark, Umber, Karstark, Reed, or Bolton. Of course three of those houses had no unmarried daughters which left him with a choice between Sansa Stark and Lynda Umber. Of the two, Lynda was the elder but Last Hearth was not nearly as warm or large a castle as Winterfell. As much as he hated to base a marriage on the size of the castle, those hot springs that warmed the walls of Winterfell would make life much easier when old age hit.

Sansa was not the least bit excited about her upcoming marriage. She had survived captivity in Kingslanding and the Vale, marriage to Harry the Heir, and one stillborn child. She would have preferred to go home and be left alone for good rather than suffer another unhappy marriage. It was not to be. She had no sooner arrived at Winterfell when the bird came from the Queen announcing the betrothal. With the marriage came help rebuilding the Castle and many wagon loads of food, supplies, and servants. Sansa couldn't deny she was thankful for the help but if this was the price of marrying Jaime Lannister she would have preferred to live in the dilapidated castle without servants and eat only bread and water for the rest of her life. Nothing was worth marriage to a Lannister.

Jaime arrived a fortnight after the last of the servants and supplies did. Sansa stood outside to welcome him with a party from her household. She didn't _want_ to welcome him but it was her duty and Sansa was always one to do her duty. Jaime was dressed in Lannister colors and wore a fur cloak over them. He had come prepared for the cold. Sansa wore furs as well as a dress in Stark grey.

"Ser Jaime, I trust you had a safe journey north." She said to him as he dismounted his horse and stood before her.

"I did indeed, my lady. Though it was incredibly boring for most of it. Should I expect all the north to be so dull or do you have any fun once in a while here. " He quipped.

Sansa found his comment grating. "I wouldn't know. I happen to be dull enough to be quite content with boring."

"I see. So I shouldn't expect to find you secretly drunk some evening, or out joining a hunt or horse race when no one is looking?"

"If I were to be drunk or hunt or race horses, I wouldn't do it secretly." She said, "But no, you'll find I'm as boring as everyone else in the north. If you don't like that, it isn't too late to go to Essos."

"Essos," He almost snorted. "The north is bad enough. I don't think I could adjust to a new continent."

"So be it." Sansa shrugged. "Come inside. I will show you to your rooms."

Jaime followed her inside and she took him to the rooms that would become his bedchamber and solar. "These were once my father's rooms." She told him. "He wouldn't like this...not one bit..." She said absently.

"No, I don't suppose her would." Jaime agreed. "Though I can't imagine you like it either. I most certainly don't like it myself."

"No Ser, I do not." She said, surprised that they were speaking frankly like this.

"Well then, neither of us want this marriage, I don't want to be here and you don't want me here... and there is real no way out of it. What do you suppose we should do about that?"

Sansa swallowed. "I planned to keep to myself as much as possible."

"Ah, avoidance." Jaime shrugged. "It's as good a strategy as any. Better than murder, constant quarreling, or pretending to care for one another. I like it. I promise, I will avoid you just as much as you avoid me. Will that suit you?"

"It will suit me just fine." Sansa agreed. "But what of... heirs? The Queen was very clear on that matter. And the servants will talk if we aren't sharing a bed chamber..."

"Then I suppose we must share a bedchamber by night and avoid each other by day. Can you handle that?" The words were more of a challenge than an expression of concern.

"I can handle whatever I must." Sansa's words were tinged with anger.

Jaime grinned. "I was told the wedding would take place the day after my arrival."

"Yes, the servants have already begun preparation for the feast. It's not going to be a huge a affair but there will be a ceremony in the godswood and a small feast."

"Good enough. Now if you don't mind, my lady, I'd like some time to unpack and change and get better acquainted with this place."

Sansa left him and did not see him again until the ceremony the following day. Words were exchanged at the heart tree, food was eaten and the couple was seen off to bed without a bedding ceremony. Sansa stood pale and trembling next to the bed, unsure of what to do next. She had been telling herself all day that there was nothing to be nervous about, nothing to fear. She was not a maiden anymore. She had been married to Harry for nearly two years and knew exactly what was going to happen in the marriage bed. It wasn't so bad, most times. She had never loved Harry. He had been drunk and stinking of wine most times when he came to bed and hadn't been gentle with her. Yet, she had learned to endure it just as she learned to endure the way he ignored her by day and sought out other women whenever he could. Jaime was at least more handsome than Harry had been. He could hardly be any worse.

Jaime had removed his tunic and his boots and turned to see Sansa trembling where she stood. He hadn't expected _that. _Perhaps anger or resistance but not fear. She had been married before and was no maiden. What was she afraid of?

"Sansa?"

She stopped staring at the wall and met his eyes. There were tears on her cheeks. Then she seemed to realize that he was nearly undressed and she still wore her dress. She took out her hairpins and removed the dress, climbing onto her side of the bed moments later. Jaime lay down next to her and blew out the candle next to the bed. In the dark her could still feel her trembling next to him. He had fully planned to take her that night. If she had been a maiden he might have hesitated. But she had been married twice by now and had even given birth. She was no stranger to what went on between men and women. If she merely disliked him or found him disgusting her reaction would certainly be more resistant. There was something deeper going on and he needed to know what it was before he could proceed. Jaime silently reached over and took her hand in his. Less than a minute passed before her breathing slowed and the trembling ceased.

"Are you afraid of me Sansa?" Jaime made himself ask. If she hated him or simply disliked him, he could tolerate that, but not fear. He didn't want her to fear him.

"Not of you specifically." She tightened her hold on his hand. "It's just...Harry was never gentle with me."

Jaime knew next to nothing about Harry Hardnyng except that he was heir to the Vale and had died of some queer sickness after two years of marriage to Sansa. "Not ever?"

"Not ever. I was willing to do my duty...I was even willing to try to like him at first...but..." Her voice broke.

"What did he do to you Sansa?" The question was both concerned and curious.

"He was almost always drunk. And when he was drunk he was angry...sometimes he gave me black eyes or broken ribs but mostly he'd slap me or choke me if I made a sound he didn't like. The few times he wasn't drunk were hardly any better. He didn't like me and he enjoyed reminding me that he married me for Winterfell and nothing more..." Sansa trailed off. She hadn't intended to tell him so much.

"Then you have nothing to worry about now." Jaime said kindly. "I don't want Winterfell and I _will _be gentle with you."

Sansa choked back a sob, unable to stop the tears that followed. Jaime didn't know why but he found himself pulling Sansa into his arms and hugging her. She was a lovely young woman. He had noticed her beauty several times during the wedding feast. The idea of someone hurting her made him angry. He wasn't sure why it should. He didn't love her. He hardly knew her but she was his now and he supposed that was why he did feel some responsibility for her well being. She was weeping in his arms and made no attempt to pull away so he kept her there, rubbing her back and sometimes kissing her forehead or closed eyes. A long while went by before she was fully relaxed in his arms. He was about to just go to sleep as they were when Sansa spoke.

"Will you kiss me?" She asked, almost a whisper.

"What?" He had heard and understood the question but he had not expected it.

Sansa said nothing. If the room had been lit he would have seen her blush. She had never truly been kissed. There were kisses on her wedding days and a kiss from Joffrey and unwanted kisses from Littlefinger but Harry had never bothered with such things. She was already enjoying the closeness in Jaime's arms, she imagined that kissing him would be much different than the others had been. It would be better.

Jaime leaned closer to her and met her lips with his own. Her arm came around him and she pulled herself closer for the kiss. She _wanted _to be kissed, she was enjoying being kissed and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. His hand made way to her breast and his tongue was in her mouth. She gasped with pleasure when his thumb brushed across her hard nipple and pressed her body even closer to him. She had clearly disliked him, even hated him, when he arrived the day before. He had called her boring and though he didn't hate her, he didn't expect she would ever feel anything positive for him, nor would he feel anything for her. Now, here she was kissing him like they were old lovers and _he _liked it too. He continued to kiss her for as long as she allowed it but made no move to go further. After a while she slowed down and gently pulled away, nuzzling into his chest to cuddle.

"Better?" He asked and felt her nod in response.

They fell asleep soon after and awoke in the morning still embraced. Jaime woke first and saw the blush creep onto Sansa's cheeks when she found herself waking in his arms. She stiffened for a moment as if to pull away and Jaime intended to let her go but at that instant she changed her mind, staying where she was rather than fleeing.

"I thought you'd planned to avoid me?" Jaime teased. "Your strategy doesn't seem to be working."

She arched an eyebrow. "Neither is yours. You promised to avoid me too."

"No, I promised to avoid you as much as you avoid me. I expected you would hate me and maybe I would hate you. Yet that doesn't seem to be the case." He left the question of why unspoken.

"I _did _plan to avoid you, but not out of hate. What's past is past. I can not hope to change any of it by hating you..."

"Then why bother to avoid me? You were worried that I would be like Harry?"

"Yes, and worried that you wouldn't." She said sadly.

"Now I'm confused."

"Maybe I'll explain it someday." She said, closing the subject.

"Fair enough. Maybe you'll let me kiss you again before we get up?"

She nodded and he kissed her again, deeply and longingly until the noise of his stomach growling broke them apart with a laugh. After breakfast Jaime went out to the practice yard and Sansa joined some of the maids to work on sewing projects. She found herself thinking of Jaime often and of what it felt like to kiss him and to fall asleep in his arms. She had worried that this would happen. That instead of being cruel like Harry, Jaime Lannister might turn out to be kind. And if he was kind it would be difficult for her not to care for him. She had known very little kindness from the men in her life for the past ten years and she knew that it would be pathetic to fall in love with a Lannister just because he was kind to her. Not only would he never return her love, it would almost be a betrayal to her family. She may not have a choice in being married to a Lannister but that didn't mean she needed to care for him. But it had felt good to kiss him and she had felt safe waking up in his arms. She doubted that he would ever hurt her the way Harry had. Of course she couldn't be sure, but Jaime didn't have a reputation of being cruel to women and he had even seemed concerned when she mentioned what Harry had done. She knew she was far safer with him than she had been at any time since her father died. It was more than just being safe though. Being close to him stirred up feelings that she hadn't even known she was capable of. She could hardly believe that she had asked him to kiss her or the way she had wantonly pressed her body close to him. She had never wanted any of the men who wanted her and yet when Jaime made it clear that he wasn't going to take his rights she found herself wanting him. What was wrong with her? All she could think about all day was how much she wanted to feel his mouth on hers again. She wanted to feel his bare skin against her own and have him inside her. She struggled to push such thoughts aside and utterly failed.

"Are you too warm, my lady?" One of the maids asked her, noticing Sansa's flush skin.

"Perhaps a little. If you could just open the window a little please." Sansa directed.

At the noon meal, Jaime playfully stepped on Sansa's foot under the table. She gave him a small smile and blushed as well. Something had changed it seemed and Jaime wondered what it was. It was his third day at Winterfell and the first two days Sansa had been coolly polite with him. Last night she had feared him and then seemed to want his affection, now she was suddenly shy. He didn't know what to make of her. Confusing as she was, he did _like _her and though the feeling was unexpected it wasn't unwelcome. Obviously, it would be easier to be married to someone he liked than someone he didn't like. Sansa was pretty and intelligent and he had enjoyed the way her body felt pressed against his. He had once thought he couldn't make love to any woman but Cersei but Sansa had proved that notion wrong the previous night. He knew he that not only could he make love to her, he _wanted _to make love to her. He'd been able to think of little else all day.

When evening came and everyone was finishing dinner, Sansa left the table early. She wanted to reach the bedchamber before Jaime did. She undressed, put her clothes neatly away, and climbed into bed naked, covering herself with the blankets. Jaime came into the room a short time later and took a long look at Sansa. Her red hair was splayed across the pillow and one bare shoulder was exposed from the blankets.

"Are you wearing anything under there?" He asked, hoping she wasn't.

"I'm not."

He approached the bed and pulled back the covers, taking a moment to gaze at his wife's nude form. She didn't flinch or avert her gaze from his eyes. "That's hardly fair." She said. "You're still dressed."

Jaime set to work removing his own clothes and Sansa watched wide eyed while he did. After everything was off, he climbed into bed next to her and covered them both with the blankets. They were soon kissing and enjoying the feel of skin on skin. His hand found her nub and she moaned at sensation having never been touched there before. Harry had only cared about his own climax, Jaime was going to give her a climax of her own. He continued to rub small circles with his thumb while two fingers went inside of her and his mouth sucked on one of her nipples. She couldn't stop the noises that escaped her. She had never experienced pleasure like this before. She hadn't known it even existed. The intensity continued to build and she reached over and took his erect member in her hands. He moaned at her touch.

"Come inside me." She whispered as she stroked him.

"Not yet." He put a third finger inside her and she moaned again.

"Please... I need you." She begged and he obliged her, climbing on top of her he rested his weight on his elbows and slowly plunged inside of her. He thrust very slowly at first, drawing out the pleasure but she bucked her hips needing to go faster so her let her set the speed. A few quicker thrusts while he nibbled at her neck and he felt her come apart, her walls closed around him, her body went limp and she was moaning more loudly than before. He let her catch her breath before he resumed moving again, chasing his own pleasure. When he came, her arms and legs were wrapped around him and she came with him for the second time.

He stayed on top of her for half a minute catching his breath and when her rolled off, he held on to her, keeping her near him in an embrace. It was then that he felt her wet tears on his skin. He pulled away enough to see her face and brushed away the tears with his thumb.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

She nodded. "Yes... is it always supposed to be like that?"

"Like what?" He absently tugged at a strand of her hair.

"Well... I never wanted to before...and I certainly never liked it..." Sansa didn't have the words to explain this to him.

He realized she was telling him that this had been her first climax and her first positive sexual experience. She may not have been a maiden but she was still very inexperienced. "Then, I would say that this was closer to how it should be."

She sighed, hugging him a little tighter. "Thank you for being gentle with me." A few stray tears slipped out.

"Do you want to talk about it? About what happened before?" He asked, half hoping that she didn't but willing to listen if she did.

She shook her head no. "Not yet. Maybe someday."

They fell asleep soon after that and neither of them stirred until morning. For the second morning in a row, Jaime woke first. He noticed for the first time the scars on her back. She hadn't fully undressed on their wedding night and last night he had been too preoccupied to even notice the scars on her back. She had said that Harry hit her, but these were more like whip marks. Who had done this to her? Sansa soon woke and gave him a small smile on finding herself awake in his arms.

"Sansa, what are the scars on your back?" He asked, tracing one of them with his finger.

She swallowed. "Joffrey.. When I was betrothed to him he had me beaten with the flat of a sword. The Kingsguard carried it out."

"Why?" He dreaded to know the answer.

"Sometimes because my brother won battles or because you were captured or he didn't like something I said...sometimes just because he was in a foul mood... he had me stripped naked in front of the entire court and beaten until I was bleeding..."

Jaime felt sick. His own blood, his _son _had done these things. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "What's past is past."

"No, it isn't a simple as that. It shouldn't have happened. Joffrey shouldn't have ordered anyone to strike you, Harry shouldn't have hurt you the way he did either, and whatever the hell Littlefinger did because I know he isn't innocent, that shouldn't have happened either." Jaime was growing angry and Sansa wondered what he was planning to do. "I can't fix what is past but I can promise you that no one will ever lay a hand on you again. No one will ever hurt you again, not for as long as I live."

"What will you do if someone tries?" She asked tentatively.

"I'll kill him." He said firmly and Sansa knew he meant it. She couldn't stop the flood of tears that came spilling out at those words. Jaime held her and let her cry.

Three months passed and in spite of trying not to be, Sansa found that she was hopelessly in love with her husband. She never said so out loud and she tried to hide her feelings, especially from him but she couldn't deny to herself that she loved him. He was kind to her, and as she had feared, that kindness had won her affection. She did try to avoid him by day. She didn't want to seem besotted. And she was polite and courteous at meals and other gatherings that brought them together by day. However, most days her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of him. She looked forward to sleeping in his arms, to his kisses, making love, even to the occasional compliment he paid her. She'd been happier these past three moons than she had in years and though some part of her was irritated at having to keep this happiness to herself, she wouldn't have traded it for anything.

At the end of the third month some of the men saw a dragon far off in the skies. Tyrion Lannister, the Queen's hand was coming for a visit. As was customary, the household gathered outside to greet him. Jaime hugged his brother and Sansa said polite words of greeting. Then Tyrion was invited inside for a feast. The Lannister brothers joked and jested throughout the feast while Sansa watched them quietly.

"Lady Sansa, would you allow me a word alone with my brother this evening?" Tyrion asked her as the meal ended.

"Of course. I was getting tired anyway." Sansa smiled politely and excused herself.

"How is married life treating you?" Tyrion asked after Sansa had left the great hall.

Jaime shrugged. "Well, enough I suppose."

"That's not much of an answer...I assume that your marriage to Sansa Stark is faring better than mine did." Tyrion prompted, hoping Jaime would share more details.

"Why would you assume that?" Jaime took a large gulp of his wine.

"Well the adoring way she looks at you for one thing."

Jaime nearly choked on his drink. "She doesn't..."

"Yes she does. She hangs off your every word... just tell me, does she let you into her bed willingly?"

"She hasn't slept in her bedchamber once since before the wedding night." Jaime said, still skeptical.

"Not once?" This news almost surprised him. "And if you pay her a compliment does she blush?"

"I suppose she does," Jaime admitted.

"She loves you..." Tyrion said almost sadly.

"That doesn't mean she loves me. Granted, I suppose she does like me but..."

"Do you like her?" Tyrion asked him.

"I do like her. She is a sweet girl and probably deserves a lot better than being stuck with a one handed Lannister for a husband." Jaime told him.

"Better a one handed Lannister than a dwarf Lannister, apparently." He quipped.

Jaime gave him a look but said nothing. Tyrion knew how he disliked it when he made jokes about himself. "Do you know anything of Harry the Heir?" Jaime asked. Tyrion always knew more about the whispers in the kingdom than he did.

"I know enough." He sighed. "He was not a kind man. I suppose he was a little like Robert Baratheon in that he loved wine and women but he was never a jolly drunk. One of his favorite whores Risa ended up in Kingslanding and she told tales of his violent cruelty in bed. I'll spare you the details but-"

"No, don't spare me the details. Sansa will barely speak of him. I need to know."

"Risa died, strangled I might add but before she did... Risa told one of Vary's birds that Harry basically just tore her clothes off her and raped her violently. He liked his women silent and if she made a noise, whether pleasure or of pain he'd strike her. He was not interested in foreplay of any sort. Risa asked him about it once, if he saved the kissing for his wife like some men did. Harry said he didn't treat his wife any differently since she was just a whore too. She was found dead after a night spent with him."

"Gods... and Sansa endured him for two years..."

"It makes more sense why she adores you, doesn't it?"

"On our wedding night she was very frightened. I asked her about it and she said Harry was never gentle with her in bed. I told her I _would _be gentle with her and she had nothing to fear. She broke down crying after that and I decided to just let her sleep that night. After she had calmed, she _asked _me to kiss her. I didn't understand it then, but now..."

"She had very likely never been truly kissed." Tyrion said.

"She had certainly never known making love could be enjoyable. She all but admitted as much to me... I told her just a few days after the wedding that I wouldn't allow any man to ever harm her again. If she does love me...well...I didn't want her to be frightened but I hadn't intended to cause _that." _

"Why not? She's a beautiful, twenty two year old young woman who practically worships you. What's the problem?" Tyrion asked, though he suspected he knew what the problem was.

"I can't give her what she wants. The only woman I ever loved is dead." Jaime spoke of Cersei.

"Don't be fool Jaime! You _can _love Sansa. You probably already do. You're not being disloyal to Cersei by loving your wife." Tyrion scolded.

"I do care for her but I don't know if I can love her."

"You've only been married a few months, so right now she is still willing to wait for you to learn to love her. But Sansa is not a woman well suited for loneliness. If you don't love her, someone else certainly will. Any of the men at arms here would gladly have her. If that's what you want then, so be it." Tyrion got up to leave the table.

"I think you're wrong Tyrion. Sansa has the Stark sense of honor. She wouldn't take another man." Jaime said.

Tyrion glared at him. "So you'd prefer she remain faithful to you but you refuse to give her the one thing she wants from you, love."

The words stung. "You really think she wants me to love her?"

"Yes, I really do." With that Tyrion left him for the night.

Jaime sat at the table for a long while mulling over Tyrion's words. The thought of Sansa with some other man was almost too painful to bear. He realized that must have been why Tyrion mentioned it, to make him see that he did love her. Jaime wasn't so sure if it was love or if it was possessiveness. He got up and walked back to his chambers. Sansa was already asleep. Jaime undressed and climbed into bed next to her. He had meant it when he'd told her he'd kill anyone who ever tried to hurt her. He still felt the same way looking at her now. He would fight for her, even die for her if he had to. Then he remembered that Cersei had wanted him to be her champion against the faith of the seven. He had refused. He had refused to fight for the woman he claimed to love and yet he would willingly do anything for the woman in the bed next to him. Perhaps Tyrion had been right. Jaime did love her, he just needed someone to point it out.

Jaime reached over and pulled Sansa into his arms, half waking her in the process.

"I missed you." She mumbled and he smiled.

"I missed you too, little wife." He said, giving her a kiss.

She was fully awake after that. "What did Tyrion have to say?"

"He thinks you are in love with me."

Sansa blushed. "Maybe I am."

"And he thinks I am in love with you." Jaime went on. Sansa said nothing to this but the expectant look in her eyes was answer enough.

"I didn't even see it myself until he pointed it out to me, but Tyrion was right. He usually is." Jaime told her.

Sansa only stared. She couldn't be the first to say the words. She wanted to, but after so many men had hurt her and used her, she couldn't be that vulnerable again. She had nearly admitted she loved him and he had all but said he loved her and now all she could do was wait and see what he would do. She felt as if life and death was hinged to this moment. Finally Jaime reached over and placed his hand on her cheek.

"I love you." He said.


End file.
